


as a general rule

by timelordswillwasteyou



Category: K (Anime)
Genre: Age Difference, Canon Compliant, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Highly Self-Indulgent, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Nagare Being a Dick, Kuroh and Shiro enthusiastically disagree, M/M, Multi, Post-Canon, Threesome - M/M/M, Yukari thinks he needs makeup to make him look pretty, alcohol consumption, but nothing excessive, except for how The Bed™ is definitely bigger in my head, since Yukari is older and Shiro is technically like 90
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-04-21
Packaged: 2019-04-25 16:25:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14382465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/timelordswillwasteyou/pseuds/timelordswillwasteyou
Summary: Kuroh finishes fetching his sword, holding it slack but ready at his hip as he makes his way to the door. Despite his firm grip, he almost drops it when Shiro moves aside to reveal the identity of their visitor.Mishakuji Yukari, looking downtrodden and emotionally drained, is standing in their entryway.(Or, Yukari is distraught after the death of his king. Kuroh and his own king help ease his pain.)





	as a general rule

**Author's Note:**

> so I finished the series the other day and couldn't get this dumb idea out of my head. I just want Kuroh and Shiro to be together. and do things to each other. and then Yukari is beautiful and I wanted him to be happy too. so this happened. anyway, this is the longest fic I've ever written. enjoy my self-indulgent contribution to the fandom.
> 
> as always, feedback is greatly appreciated.
> 
> (spoilers for the end of the series)
> 
> (since it's post-canon, technically Shiro is in his original body now, but technically I imagined Yashiro's body while writing this, but also technically Shiro is in whoever the fuck's body you want him to be in)
> 
> (I was going to post this all at once but then it kind of came to a nice closure and it was already way longer than I intended so I decided fuck it. but there will be a second chapter, and it will be smutty as hell)

As a general rule, when Kuroh was happy about something, it was hard to tell just by looking at his face; he would keep wearing his usual neutral expression, but on the inside, he would be smiling, his heart singing with whatever joy he had been granted.

This, though – this is different. This is the end of a successful day, a successful mission. This is a warm, freshly cooked meal being taken off the stove and served as the table is set by his friends in the other room. This is him and the two people most important to him settling around the dinner table to eat. This is him, this is Neko, and most of all, this is Shiro.

Kuroh cannot help himself; he smiles.

-

Later, after they have finished eating and cleaning and Neko has gone out to find something sweet for desert with Kukuri, he and Shiro settle next to each other on the couch, the stereo crooning quietly in the background. The soft lighting projecting itself onto the walls makes Shiro’s face glow, and his eyes are smiling and fond when Kuroh leans forward to kiss him. It is more of a light brush of lips than anything, because a moment later Shiro starts giggling with mirth and Kuroh is still smiling. He has never smiled for this long in his life. Shiro brings a gentle hand up to Kuroh’s face, touches his fingers to Kuroh’s smiling lips, and – quietly, as if anything above a whisper will disturb the tranquility of their intimate moment – says, “Thank you, Kuroh.”

He can feel his brow furrowing, but he leans his face into Kuroh’s palm as he responds, confused, “There is nothing to thank me for, Shiro. I merely did my part, and did so willingly, for the sake of the world and for my king. It is you who has sacrificed much, and you who should be shown gratitude. Thank _you_ , Shiro.” His smile stays put stubbornly on his face, and shows no sign of going away; perhaps this is his fate now, as long as Shiro is near. He can’t say he minds.

He watches as Shiro’s lips stretch to mirror his. “I wasn’t only referring to everything you did to help destroy the Slate, you know. Although I heard you were able to defeat your old friend Yukari soundly yet honorably; what a sight that must have been. You have become so strong,” Shiro continues, every word sending heat rushing to Kuroh’s face and blood pulsing hard through his veins, “and I am so very proud of you, as you should be of yourself. And yet despite your great strength, you have stood steadfastly behind your ideals, and for that, you also have my utmost respect, Kuroh.” Shiro sighs, bringing his hand down to Kuroh’s neck and stroking at the pulse point there, his other hand joining it on the other side. He smiles, and it looks a little helpless. “I guess what I am really trying to say is, you have become a great warrior, but your heart remains as pure as ever, and you continue to proudly uphold your beliefs. You still carry that creepy voice recorder around, you still do all the grocery shopping and cooking, and that suitcase full of cooking utensils is still your most prized possession. Yatogami Kuroh, you are incredible, and you are still the man I fell in love with over a year ago.”

Shiro is looking so intently into his eyes. Kuroh’s heart is beating quickly, and he can feel moisture pooling at the corners of his eyes, his body not knowing how to handle being so overcome with emotion. All he can do is choke out a whispered, “Shiro,” and reach up to grip his hands tightly. He closes his eyes, feeling the tears run over onto his cheeks, and feels Shiro shift to wipe them away even as he leans forward to touch their foreheads together.

But he has to do something, something to let Shiro know how much the boy – _his_ boy, his _king_ – means to him, so he squeezes Shiro’s hands tighter, and tells him, “I fell in love with you when I realized you had lied about your sister being in the hospital,” and it is just the truth but it makes Shiro’s eyes begin to water as well and earns him a long, deep kiss on the lips.

It seems that with their battles and confessions over, there is little else to do but kiss and whisper sweet nothings to each other. He holds Shiro close around the waist and Shiro grips his arms as they make out, slowly but so passionately that Kuroh feels like he’s going to overheat from the intensity of it. After a while – seconds or hours, time has no meaning anymore – the all-consuming burn gives way to something simply _warm_ , spreading to every extremity, making him feel soft all over even while some parts of him feel decidedly the opposite.

He pulls away, breathing heavily and blushing to his ears. Shiro’s eyes when they meet are half-lidded with desire and make Kuroh’s blood throb in his veins, make it rush south faster than he can even think about Shiro’s knowing smile as his hand follows the same path downward.

And they have done this before, a couple of times; they have gone farther, even, and Kuroh blushes deeper as he remembers the feeling of his king enveloping him, of Shiro’s own warmth as Kuroh had experienced it from the inside. But the fact does not lessen the effect when Shiro touches him like this, pushing him gently into the cushions with his entire body as Kuroh goes boneless beneath his touch. In the back of his mind he registers how lucky he is to share all of his firsts with someone he loves so much he often feels like he’ll burst from it, someone who loves him just as much in return. His mouth goes slack with Shiro’s kiss and his eyes flutter shut as they show each other their love, and through it all, that stubborn ghost of a smile never leaves his face.

-

After, Shiro lies next to him on the couch, half on top of him, his head on Kuroh’s chest rising and falling with each breath he takes. Kuroh doubts anyone has ever been as content as he is in this moment, sated and pleasantly drowsy from more than one (incredible, bone-deep, _intense_ ) orgasm and Shiro’s warmth. He cards his hands through the pale locks, humming a quiet tune to himself, and Shiro giggles at the feeling of the vibrations through Kuroh’s chest. Kuroh smiles fondly, about to open his mouth to add lyrics to the tune – something cheesy; maybe he’ll just sing “I love you, Shiro” over and over – when there is a knock on the door.

Kuroh frowns. He does not want to move, especially for something as asinine as Neko having forgotten her key (or how to use it) again. But Shiro beats him to it, insisting Kuroh stays put (“You made dinner _and_ did all the cleaning!”) as he plants a soft kiss on his lips and strides over to answer the door.

Kuroh can tell from his reaction that it is not Neko.

“Oh, hello…” he hears Shiro say. Someone he recognizes but doesn’t know well, then. Kuroh is already reaching for his sword (he keeps it under the dinner table, just in case). He hears a mumbled response from their guest, and then Shiro says, “Um, Kuroh? I think it’s for you.”

Kuroh finishes fetching his sword, holding it slack but ready at his hip as he makes his way to the door. Despite his firm grip, he almost drops it when Shiro moves aside to reveal the identity of their visitor.

Mishakuji Yukari, looking downtrodden and emotionally drained, is standing in their entryway.

-

Some time later, after they’ve welcomed (warmly on Shiro’s part; begrudgingly on Kuroh’s) Yukari into their small home, cleaned up his face (his makeup was smeared and running from crying; Kuroh tried not to think about how that was sort of his fault), and gotten him settled at the table, Kuroh finds himself playing babysitter for two fairly tipsy men. It turned out that Yukari had brought several bottles of his favorite sake with him (Kuroh suspects it was actually his late king’s favorite, but is too kind to point it out), and Shiro, the traitor, produced from on top of the refrigerator (where Kuroh can’t reach) what he keeps referring to as “the best beer in all the land” (does this mean in all of Germany? Japan? Kuroh doesn’t know) and three tall glasses to go along with it. The two _children_ , as Kuroh has privately taken to calling them, are on the floor, Shiro still sitting gracefully cross-legged and Yukari laying dramatically on his stomach with his face in the carpet. This, of all things, is how Kuroh knows something is really wrong; for Yukari to not want to show his face is incredibly strange. From his place on the couch, he has observed the conversation range from Yukari’s makeup (“What kind of lip gloss do you use? It’s so shiny,” Shiro had asked after his third shot or so) to jokes at Kuroh’s expense (“You think it’s creepy that he carries your former master’s voice around with him like that, don’t you? Don’t you, Yukari?”), which Kuroh lets slide with only a soft, “Master Ichigen’s wisdom is eternal,” if only because it makes Shiro smile so much. He keeps exchanging knowing glances with Shiro, though; he knows his king is trying to distract Yukari from whatever miserable thoughts he must be having, but Yukari did show up here, and Kuroh knows they’ll have to talk about it eventually.

For now, though…

“Did you know,” Yukari begins, still snickering after Shiro finishes his recounting of how he and Kuroh met, “that one time, when Kuroh was a little kid, he got scared of his eyebrows after he saw them in a mirror and cut them off with his sword?”

Shiro’s laugh can only be described as hysterical.

“I thought they were caterpillars!” Kuroh defends.

“It was an impressive display of swordsmanship, I must say,” Yukari continues as if Kuroh hadn’t spoken at all. “But an unnecessary one! Most kids give themselves choppy haircuts. Not Kuroh! He gave himself an eyebrow cut!” Yukari’s laughter is loud enough to drown out even Shiro’s. Kuroh is indignant.

“I hate caterpillars…” Kuroh sighs, resigned to his fate. The two continue laughing maniacally at him. Shiro takes another sip of sake (glasses long abandoned, he drinks right from the bottle) and passes it to Yukari. The latter reaches for it, but his hand is shaking too much from his laughter, so Kuroh snatches it from Shiro to prevent an even bigger disaster in their living room.

At this, Shiro’s eyes light up. “Ooh, is Kuroh going to partake? Go ahead, Kuroh, it’s good. I’ll even get you a glass if you want – “ Shiro makes to get up and promptly tumbles to the carpet, giggling. Kuroh halfheartedly considers going to help him up, then remembers his echoing laughter and decides to leave him there. He seems happy enough, anyway. Kuroh sighs and looks down at the bottle, regarding its colorful label. It is mostly in shades of green. Of course.

Yukari takes over for the collapsed Shiro. “Yes, Kuroh, join us,” he drawls in a way that would probably be seductive if he didn’t have beer in his hair and carpet fuzz on his face. “It is very good. My favorite, in fact. Don’t you trust me, dear brother? Don’t you trust your _Shiro_?” Yukari walks on his knees over to the couch, kneeling next to Kuroh and turning the bottle so they can both see the label. “It’s so pretty, see,” he says, looking immensely self-satisfied, as if he’s just made an incredible deduction. “You _have_ to try it.” He smiles up at Kuroh. Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Shiro has stopped giggling and has sat up on his elbows to watch the scene unfold.

As a general rule, Kuroh didn’t drink. Tonight, he makes an exception.

-

It really should have been no surprise that he was a lightweight, but Shiro insisted he try the beer as well (turns out it is German, after all), and after an embarrassingly little amount of alcohol his whole body feels pleasantly warm and the room is pleasantly tilting this way and that. It feels like it’s rocking him, as if he's in a hammock, or maybe a cradle. It’s nice. Shiro is also nice. He’s so pretty. So, so pretty. He thinks he’s mentioned this to Shiro a couple of times, because Yukari is laughing at him again, but he can’t be bothered. It’s only the truth.

Yukari is sad, though. Kuroh wants to ask him about it, but he keeps getting distracted by Shiro’s silky hair and the way his cold nose is pushing into Kuroh’s neck. He is leaving soft kisses there, and along Kuroh’s collarbones. It feels really, really nice. His dick agrees.

He is halfheartedly scolding himself for the direction his mind has gone when Yukari stops laughing, flips over, and stares wistfully at the ceiling as if it holds the answers to all of his problems. It probably should have dawned on Kuroh before now how odd the situation is – he never expected Yukari, of all people, to be in their home, especially not today of all days – but it doesn’t feel as strange as he thinks it probably should. Kuroh notices Yukari watching he and Shiro out of the corner of his eye as his former clan mate says, “It must be so wonderful. For you two, I mean. To be together properly…” He turns so he’s lying on his side, facing them and the couch. He is looking at Kuroh when he says, “It seems we share a bad habit of falling for our kings, dear brother. Although I must say, you have handled it much better than I. Yours returns your sentiments, after all…” He trails off again, gazing at him and Shiro with jealousy, longing, regret, and something else Kuroh cannot and doesn’t care to name.

So this is what has him in such a melancholy mood. No wonder he is so distraught, drowning his worries in his late master’s favored drink, torturing himself by coming here and observing what could have been with him and Nagare. Kuroh hadn’t known they were lovers, and Yukari doesn’t seem like the type to tie himself down to one person, but he supposes it goes to show how much time has passed since Kuroh knew him well.

To his surprise, Shiro plants one more kiss to his neck before rising and going to sit by Yukari. He guides his head into his lap and begins stroking his hair. Kuroh expects Yukari to protest, but his eyes close and he looks more relaxed than he has been all night. Shiro smiles sadly down at him, then encouragingly at Kuroh. Kuroh doesn’t know how to interpret this, or what to do. He does not express emotions well at his best, and he is certainly not at his best right now, but something in his gut clenches at the sight of Shiro touching his former friend and mentor like this, and it is not jealousy as it perhaps should be but instead…interest? His mouth suddenly feels very dry, and he licks his lips.

Shiro, of course, notices this, and continues carding through Yukari’s hair with one hand while the other goes down to stroke his neck soothingly, like he had been doing with Kuroh not two minutes ago. He smiles knowingly at Kuroh. Kuroh swallows hard.

Yukari still looks sad, but also content, safe, and Kuroh realizes how pretty he is, some remnants of his usual makeup still on his face and his lips curled into something between a smile and a frown. He can certainly see why Nagare chose him as a lover, and feels some amount of guilt and sadness that the Green King did not return his vassal's love. Yukari’s eyes flutter open and he looks up at Shiro for a moment, then shifts his head forward to regard Kuroh again. “You are lucky, Kuroh,” he says, smiling wistfully before his grin turns wicked and he adds, “This one is very good with his hands.”

Kuroh swallows again, staring at the pair of them, both of them now watching him. He wants to say something to comfort Yukari, but he is inebriated, and all his mind wants to think about is what a pretty picture he and Shiro make, intertwined on the floor like that.

He halfheartedly scolds his dick again, then takes a long draw from a newly opened bottle of sake.

-

“Why…why do you wear all this?” Kuroh asks slowly a bit later, tilting his head up to gaze at Yukari. Yukari looks confused, and his pupils are a little dilated. Maybe Kuroh wasn’t clear enough? He reaches up to stroke his fingers down Yukari’s cheek, his thumb resting at the corner of his eye. “This, I mean,” he adds, looking at the mascara stubbornly sticking to Yukari’s long lashes despite his previous tears, and at the foundation he can see clinging around his nose and chin and cheeks.

Yukari drops his gaze. Kuroh feels Shiro shift in his lap, gazing up at where the two of them are sitting shoulder to shoulder against the couch, an open bottle between them. Shiro intertwines his and Kuroh’s hands, then after a moment’s hesitation reaches with his free hand for Yukari’s and links their fingers as well. Yukari smiles, and it is still sad. Kuroh leans unconsciously toward him in a silent attempt at comfort.

After a moment, Kuroh gets his answer. “Nagare…asked me to,” he says. “I…before I met him, I would do this only sometimes, and only when I was alone. But Nagare caught me once, and he liked it, said it made me look pretty. Like a girl. So I started wearing it all the time.” He sighs, and he drops the fake smile. “I thought…maybe, if I looked like what he wanted, he would…love me…” Yukari shakes his head, reaching up with his free hand to self-consciously rub at his cheek. “I suppose it got to the point where I don’t feel,” he spits out the word, “ _pretty_ without it.” His laugh is sad, and he hides his face in Kuroh’s shoulder.

This won’t do. Kuroh shares a look with Shiro, then gets a finger under Yukari’s chin to lift his head and meet his eyes. “Nagare was wrong,” he says. Yukari immediately looks hurt, so Kuroh clarifies, “It is not the makeup that makes you pretty. If he thought that, then he was a fool.”

Yukari looks indignant. “My master was no fool – “

“He was,” Kuroh interrupts. He rubs a bit at the foundation, removing the remnants of it. The face Yukari makes is almost devastated, and he goes to hide his face again. Kuroh stops with him a firm grip on his chin. “It is not the makeup that makes you pretty. It is simply you.”

Yukari’s eyes swell with unshed tears. “That’s easy for you to say, Kuroh. You are beautiful, you have always been, and I…” He drops his head, and Kuroh lets him this time. “I am sure Nagare would have preferred you, just as Master Ichigen did.”

Kuroh is taken aback. _He_ is beautiful? _Yukari_ thinks so? He looks to Shiro for help; he does not know what to say. Shiro sits up, regarding both of them sternly.

“Both of you,” Shiro starts; Yukari lifts his head a bit to listen, “are beautiful. I mean it, Kuroh. You are the most beautiful person I have ever known. And you,” he turns to Yukari, “Kuroh is right about you. And about Nagare. I…” He takes a deep breath. “I understand needing to have a mask, a face you can hide behind, but for you to think you _need_ it in order to be attractive, to be desired...that is an insecurity which should have never been impressed upon you, of all people, who is already lovely in his own right.” He smiles a little then, lips curling mischievously. “In fact, if I hadn’t already given myself to Kuroh…”

Kuroh’s mouth drops open; Yukari blushes deeply, though his smile is pleased and a little smug. Shiro recovers quickly and adds, “Furthermore, I am sure your _dear brother_ feels the same.”

Yukari turns to him, wide-eyed and…hopeful? It is Kuroh’s turn to redden, and he stutters out, “W-What about you, Shiro? You…you are also…” He blushes harder, as they are both watching him with interest now. “What I mean is, I…desire you, Shiro. I mean that I…that you are very attractive and I want you, all the time…” He trails off, embarrassed beyond belief. At least he can blame the alcohol. Speaking of which, now would be a good time for another pull.

As he reaches for the bottle, Yukari shifts his gaze between he and Shiro. He hums a little; then, mind apparently made up, he says, “I would very much like to see the two of you together.” He then steals the bottle from Kuroh’s grip and takes a sip casually, as if he hasn’t just said what he has (though his blush and slight smirk leave no doubt as to what exactly he means).

Kuroh chokes. Shiro smiles. Kuroh wonders how this has become his life. Shiro crawls toward him in a way that should be silly but instead makes Kuroh’s heart beat out of his chest.

By the time Shiro reaches him, it is already too late, and Kuroh has realized that he doesn’t really want to stop him, anyway. Shiro cups his jaw, gaze flicking down to his mouth, and when he leans in his kiss is searing. Kuroh’s fingers go to his hair, pulling him forward and deepening their kiss. Shiro’s mouth is warm and perfect against his, and Kuroh groans and slips his tongue over Shiro’s. Time, as it always does, slips away as he pushes his lips against Shiro’s desperately; inhibitions lowered, he is already achingly hard, and he only remembers that they are not alone when someone who is not him or Shiro makes a pleasured sound nearby. He pulls back, feeling more pleasantly buzzed than he did even from the alcohol, and turns to acknowledge Yukari’s presence as Shiro continues to press heated kisses down his jaw and neck. Yukari is much closer than Kuroh remembers him being. Kuroh knows how debauched he must look, and he should be embarrassed about it – it was only a kiss, after all – but the way Yukari is looking at him makes him feel…well. Pretty.

Shiro has reached his collarbones; he is kissing the spots he knows make Kuroh go slack with pleasure. Yukari’s gaze drops to his parted lips. Kuroh lets his eyes flutter closed, feeling warm breath wash over his lips, and resigns himself to his fate.

A moment later, he feels a weight drop into his lap and hears a loud snore. He jerks his eyes open and looks down. Shiro, the absolute _child_ , has fallen asleep.

The moment is broken, and when Kuroh starts laughing, Yukari follows suit a moment later. “Come,” Kuroh suggests, reaching down to lift Shiro bridal-style into his arms. He has no doubt letting Yukari stay the night is the right thing to do, and something tells him the older man has nowhere else to go, anyway. “There is room for three in the bed.”

(That isn’t exactly true _per se_ – he had forgotten that when they share the bed with Neko, she takes up much less room, as she is a cat – but with a warm body pressed snugly against him on either side, Kuroh cannot find it within himself to complain. He drifts into sleep quickly, the stubborn smile still stuck to his face.) 

-

The next time Kuroh wakes up, it is to soft mumbling and something firm pressed against the top of his hip. He smiles, reaching behind him for Shiro’s familiar warmth, and only when a different warmth shifts against his front does he remember their guest. Shiro doesn’t seem to mind, though, and Kuroh’s mind is still too sleepy to register anything other than Shiro’s whispered, “Good morning, my knight,” followed by his soft kiss.

He hears a snicker on his other side and turns to face Yukari in all his sleep-disheveled glory. With Shiro’s arms holding him close around the waist and his breath against the back of Kuroh’s neck, Kuroh feels justified in passing his next words off as still-drowsy-from-having-just-awoken when he says to Yukari, “I was correct. You are even more beautiful without it,” and brings a hand to his cheek to leave no doubt as to what he is referring to. Yukari’s eyes widen a little, his face flushing, and that is all the warning Kuroh gets before his former clan mate leans forward and presses their lips together.

Kuroh thinks he should be feeling indignant, or surprised, or something other than pleasantly warm and _right_ as their mouths move against each other; but he does not, and he doesn’t care to think about it much either, not with Yukari sighing contentedly into his mouth and Shiro nuzzling into his hair and pushing his arousal (that explains what was pressing into his hip earlier, then) into the crack of Kuroh’s ass, breathing labored against Kuroh's neck.

He also shouldn’t be surprised that Yukari is _good_ at this – incredible, even, hotly prying Kuroh’s lips open and worrying on the bottom one. He feels Shiro trail a hand down to slip beneath the hem of his briefs at the same time the former Green clansman presses a knee between Kuroh’s legs, and he breaks the kiss on a gasp; if he hadn’t already been fully hard when he awoke, he certainly would be now.

He closes his eyes to try and think for a moment. This should feel…wrong, shouldn’t it? Like he is being disloyal to his king and lover? But…Shiro is right here, and Kuroh can feel his approval pressing into his backside, and if the fluttering of Yukari’s lashes and the soft pants coming from his mouth are any indication, the older man has no objections either. And Kuroh is…surprisingly okay with this. More than okay, in fact. But he needs to make sure, so he turns his torso to meet Shiro’s eyes and says his name softly, a question as well as his answer.

Shiro smiles at him, his own brand of fond and mischievous, and brings his free hand around to stroke Kuroh’s stomach the way he knows makes Kuroh go pliant against him. He feels Yukari’s hand join Shiro’s a moment later, and this…really, really doesn’t feel wrong. Shiro’s other hand dips lower, pressing gently against his entrance, and his king whispers, “I’ll take care of you…you take care of him.”

Kuroh shakes his head, corrects, “We’ll take care of each other,” and surrenders.

**Author's Note:**

> ...and they all do it.  
>  (fun fact: I lack any inspiration for how to actually go about writing that, so. if anyone reads this and has suggestions for how said doing it should go down pls lmk)


End file.
